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We all paint our lives.
The mountains of challenges,
The rivers of tears,
The waterfalls of joy.

We mix the colours of sorrow and laughter
And add the colours of experience and the years that passed.
The souls we will always remember
And the moments we will never forget.
Life spirals and twists.
Like a vortex of water
Escaping it's inevitable
Demise.
To watch as nature
Twists this liquid force
In both and opposite directions
Is a puzzle and a conundrum
In one.
Do these lives of ours
Drain inexplicably and carry
The future strands as mysterious
As is the past to us now.
I'd like to tell you a story
It begins in 1492
When dear old Christopher Columbus
Sailed the ocean blue

He landed on what he thought
To be the country of India
He stumbled upon a group of people
Who appeared to be indigenous

Because these native people
Happened to be where he thought he was
He called them all "Indians"
&& somehow that name stuck

They welcomed his group with open arms
Even offered them their feast
Unaware that deep inside
They were but wolves, dressed as sheep

Columbus && his crew
Soon ravaged the land
They took what they saw
Then they took full command

Of the people they found
On the land where they landed
They felt they should rule
So they stepped in, heavy handed

They murdered the people
Who had taken them in
Set fire to their villages
While the victims watched with their kin

Flash forward to the future
It's now 2016
It's been over 500 years
Since the overtaking by the regime

Future settlers decided
To let the survivors live on
They designated them small areas
Of what had not yet been robbed

These Native Americans,
Generally keep to themselves
They get by living off their land
But now they need your help

The Sioux of Standing Rock
Are being horribly mistreated
The state of North Dakota
Is poisoning them without reason

A pipeline has been built
That runs through this Native territory
When Bismarck residents didn't want it
It was rerouted, how discriminatory

People from all over the country
Are seeming to agree
They are making the commute
To protest peacefully

In defense of an oppressed people
Who only want to live
But the government is stepping in
Even blowing off some limbs

"Let them die, they're not like us"
the message the administration is sending
It seems that after all this time
The battle is never-ending

What exactly does it take
For people to see eye-to-eye?
In the end we're all just human  
We kiss, we laugh, we cry

So if you have a heart at all
If you know that this is wrong
Please join the Sioux in their mission
By coming together, we can be strong
You don't have to be out there protesting to help. You can still make a difference by making a monetary donation to help build with Standing Rock. You can read more about it on the go fund me page listed here. Every bit helps.
https://www.gofundme.com/EarthLodgesAtStandingRock
 Dec 2016 jackierutherford
martin
Some things are simply understood
Without the need for spoken word
Others better said out loud
So they may be heard

Some thoughts are better unexposed
So not to harm the atmosphere
Others need to fly and soar
To land on lover's waiting ear

Hold the tongue, bite the lip
Let not insults from it trip
But compliments that smooth the way
Let them see the light of day
Really pleased to be the daily.
Thanks to all for reading,
what a great site we enjoy here at hellopoetry.
Lay this poet down
When the time arrives
In a field of fresh cut words
On a bed of softened rhyme

Feel free to cover me
From my head down to my feet
In a poetic form to keep me warm
Perhaps a blanket of allegory

Place a silken sonnet pillow
Underneath my weary head
In a field of fresh cut words
On top a rhyming bed
the day
when even the not so faithful
were tempted to pray
for the health of the nation
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